


Of Immortals and False Gods

by orphan_account, WendyHack



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Gen, Gender-Neutral Character, Intentional mixed tenses in some parts, More tags to follow, POV First Person, Self-Indulgent, Unreliable Narrator, especially on flashback scenes, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-09
Updated: 2019-04-09
Packaged: 2020-01-07 10:30:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18408815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account, https://archiveofourown.org/users/WendyHack/pseuds/WendyHack
Summary: Oliver’s not having a good day. Hell, calling it a “bad day” would be the understatement of the century.Ne just failed most of nir exams, got chided on by -nzir deadbeat father and was kicked out of the house for being a disappointment (again). Ne was just minding nir own business when there was a beam of light that came from the top of the Stark tower. At first, ne thought that it would be just a light show gone wrong, or maybe Stark spontaneously decided to give New Yorkers an invitation of sorts that he is ready to party in the most extravagant way possible, butnoooooooooooooooo. The beam just had to form an honest to god portal on its apex and of course,of fucking course, freakingalienscame pouring out of it.This is so not cool, universe, what thefuck?





	Of Immortals and False Gods

Hol’ up, hold up! Before skipping all the way to that part, shouldn’t we start from the beginning? Or at least, from when everything just went to shit for me? I think this story of mine will make more sense with background info, after all.

 

So here goes nothing:

 

_ It happened in the woods on winter night. Hail showers from above as the sky’s blue hue unseen for white and gray looms over the land. A single figure trekked forward despite the harsh, hardened snow slap and bruise their skin. Shivering, the person let out a weary sigh. ‘Of all places,’ the figure thought to themself, legs never faltering its movement, ‘I end up in a place where only animals may find me.’ _

 

_ The drops of melting snow seeps into their thin jacket as the wind grew stronger than before, making the lone figure clutch their clothing even tighter. “Goddamnit,” they bemoaned. They fell to their knees before the rest of their fatigued body followed. Exhaustion finally won as they sunk further into the thick snow. “This is it,” they said to no one in particular “this is where I’ll die…” _

 

_ Just as they were about to full succumb to consciousness, there was an muffled voice from the distance. Whoever the owner of it let out affronted exclamation, ‘Get it together, ya dramatic punk!’ the voice scuffed, as though it was rolling its eyes on the laying figure. _

 

_ ‘You ain’t dying and this ain’t even the true story!’ _

 

Whoops, damnit conscience… Okay, rewind, rewind, just like what Jiminy Cricket had told you guys, I was just kidding. That’s not really what happened. I’ve never been to Canada or anywhere  _ that _ cold.

 

Look, give me a break. The real story’s boring and rather embarrassing on my part, so  _ please _ forgive me for almost telling a better version.

 

Going back before my attention span wavers again, it happened one night - or rather very early morning; the time before sunrise? The twilight hour?  _ Okay, stop it brain,  _ **_focus_ ** . So let’s just say it’s nighttime for simplicity’s sake, I was sneaking out that time go get free air since insomnia isn’t letting me sleep anyway. Good idea, right? Yeah, definitely not.

 

It was big mistake. But hey, that big mistake  _ did _ give me some good stuff back in return. But, it was still a mistake.

 

Walking this early is theurepic. It wasn’t perfect, but with the streets of New York not being as full as later in the morning is better that nothing. Sure, the city reeks of pollution and garbage, there are suspicious persons that are scattered here and there, ear-splitting sounds of those rambunctious from the engines from those street racers a few blocks away. While other people would say that “ _ Hey, that’s not exactly peaceful _ ” or something along those lines. To me, however, those sounds are very soothing and keeps my brain activity to a minimum. It gave me something to focus on, just enough to not overwhelm me to the point of sensory overload.

 

I kept walking, hands stuffed in my jogger pants’ pockets both to keep them warm and making sure that my phone won’t be pickpocket that easily. Feeling a headache coming, I held onto my phone tighter, my finger resting on the speed dial contact button in case something does happen. The spandex-wearing weirdo, Deadfool or whatever his alias is, is probably stalking me again ( _ he said something about boxes telling him that me being important to a plot but i wasn’t exactly listening to whatever he was rambling about _ ) and I ain’t having none of that shit today, nu-uh, big nada-yada.

 

Just as I was about to pass by Central Park, I felt a tug towards the direction the gigantic-park-that-I-definitely-do-not-want-to-enter-in-the-dark. I tried ignoring it at first, speed walking away as fast as I can. But then, the headache grew even worse that it had felt before. I tried ignore that too, just like what I do to any of my problems.

 

I only managed to move a few steps away before my brain blanked out. Like, I literally remember nothing except for the fact that the next thing I knew is that I’m standing before an honest to god boulder with a peculiar looking sword sticking on its side. 

 

In situations like these, normal people would be freaking out, maybe even call the police, right? Welp, turns out I’m a weirdo since all I did was stand there like an idiot while calmly observing the sword. It’s very shiny and golden, were the first things I took note of before noticing the way its blade is slick and curved. I think that was just my sleep deprived brain talking but honestly, it look like a weird baby of a scimitar and a very misshapen curved sickle; it’s as though the sickle’s bent part was stretched in photoshop to make that part the new tip of the blade before painting the entire thing with the gold spray paint tool, or however you do the photo editing shtick. Heck, even the grip is golden and the only reason I can distinguish it from the blade is because of the texture difference.

 

Whoever smithed this thing is really talented in making something so simple so beautiful.

 

I was too busy admiring the thing that I didn’t notice myself moving towards it. My brain started to cloud, my senses are being muffled and muted. Nothing else is in focus but the sword. Only the sword matters right now, only  _ that  _ is worthy of my complete attention.

 

“ _ Come, child _ ,” it beckoned,  _ “I have so much to offer you _ .”

 

I was slightly startled by the feminine voice, knowing that there are only sounds of cicadas and the soft buzzing of the lamplights down in the path, but ultimately, my feet didn’t stop moving to its direction.

 

“ _ Do not fret, young one _ ,” the voice, not my own nor my conscience’s, “ _ only you and I are present in this area _ .”

 

I stopped inches before the golden weapon and felt even more hypnotized by the sight of it. I never realized that light wasn’t reflecting on its surface. No, the light was coming from the sword itself. From its edges and ornate cravings, multitude of colors shone from it as though it’s phrysm. It highlighted all the swirling lines of cravings, making it look even more elegant.

 

“ _ Yes child, come closer. Come and make me yours. _ ”

 

If it weren’t for the fact that my brain is not functioning properly, I would’ve laughed myself silly because of its wording. But if course, like the gullible kid that I am, I reached out and grabbed its handle.

 

With that, I sealed my fate.

 

_ “ _ **_FINALLY!_ ** ” It bellowed in my head, snapping me out of it. But it was too late to back out. I knew that the moment that golden tendrils wrapped on my hand and pierced my skin, digging under it. This ripped a howl of agony as more and more of these thread-like tendrils force their way through into my arm, my body,  _ I don’t know _ .

 

“ _ I’ve been for so long and finally! Finally, a worthy host has arrived! _ ”

 

All my shaky eyes see is white  _ white  _ **_white_ ** as it burrowed through my muscles, vessels, bones with vigor. It felt as though it was magma that was moving under my veins and I can barely process anything past that as pain was only sensation I felt and  _ oh god, I was so scared, I was alone, why did I fall for it? Why why why - _

 

“-kid, kid,  **_kid!_ ** Shit  _ **fuck** , _stay with me -”

 

\-  _ why why whywhyw _ **_hywhywhy why was I so stupid!?_ **

 

Not long after, I completely lost consciousness.


End file.
